Chapter 5 | Dakota Williamson

  My heart hammers in my chest as the officer continues reading names, each syllable stretching the moment unbearably. I know mine will be called, but the longer I wait, the more I feel like I’ve been forgotten.

  “Jacob Perthrew, Michael McAlpin, Kurojo Frestal.” The officer’s voice is steady, unwavering. He’s naming people I don’t even recognize. I counted around four hundred recruits when we first lined up, but he must’ve read over a thousand names by now. My fingers drum anxiously against my knee.

  One by one, men stand and stride toward the stage, their crisp uniforms mirroring my own. The gleam of newly pinned stripes catches in the overhead lights as the officer places them on collars with an air of practiced precision.

  Then my heart stops.

  “Dakota Williamson.”

  A bolt of electricity shoots through my spine. I push myself to my feet so fast my chair scrapes against the floor. My legs feel like lead, but I force myself to walk steadily, keeping my posture straight, my breaths even. Step after step, I close the distance to the stage. The officer meets my gaze with a nod before pinning the stripes onto my collar.

  Clip.

  They feel heavier than I expected, colder even. I take a breath. This is it. I’m officially in the military.

  The sound of applause rolls through the hall like distant thunder as I make my way back to my seat. But sitting still doesn’t feel right. What kind of soldier waits for people to come to him? Not me. If I’m going to be in this, I need to know who I’m fighting alongside. I stand again, scanning the rows of recruits, looking for someone to talk to.

  I approach a guy whose name I vaguely remember hearing not long ago.

  “Hey, I’m Dakota Williamson, recruit for the Fourth,” I say, extending my hand.

  The guy shakes it firmly, his grip confident. “Ezekiel Golejoy, but everyone calls me Ego. Third Colony.”

  “Ego?” I raise an eyebrow.

  He grins. “First letter of my name, first two of my last name, plus I’m the best recruit here.” He chuckles, and I can’t help but crack a smile. “Fourth’s the fighting colony, right? Where all the veterans come from?”

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  I nod. “Yeah, lots of military families. My dad served too.”

  “Respect.” Ego gives a small nod. “Third is just... normal. Nothing crazy, no heavy expectations. Just a bunch of guys trying to make a name for themselves.”

  Before I can respond, another voice chimes in.

  “You guys are lucky.”

  I turn to see a guy with slicked back hair and a bunch of jewelry on his arms, an expensive-looking wristwatch catching the light as he folds his hands together.

  “Nathan Harrow. Fifth Colony,” he says smoothly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Figured I should get a look at what common soldiers look like.”

  Ego looks at me and grins, "We got ourselves a rich kid, huh?"

  Nathan shrugs. “I prefer ‘financially superior,’ but sure.”

  Ego lets out a roar of laughs, "Get a load of this kid!" I begin laughing too, and so does Nathan.

  Another recruit steps up, his broad shoulders and calloused hands making it obvious he comes from a labor-heavy background.

  “Garren Stohl, First Colony,” he introduces himself, arms crossed. His voice has a rough edge to it. “Bet you’ve never lifted anything heavier than a credit chip, huh, Harrow?”

  Nathan chuckles. “Not if I can help it.”

  We all grin and chuckle a bit.

  Ego leans in toward me. “This is gonna be interesting.”

  The conversation expands as more recruits join in, each bringing stories from their colonies. The guys from the Second talk about endless forests and rare animals they grew up with. The ones from the Seventh joke about how their colony never sleeps, how the neon lights of their districts make it feel like the sun never sets. The Eighth Colony recruits seem more reserved, their sharp eyes scanning the room as if already evaluating everyone.

  After a while, Ego taps my shoulder. “Hey, there’s an induction party tonight in the presidential banquet hall. They gave me, like, twenty invites,” he says, digging in his pocket before handing me a slip of paper. “So, you can have one. See you there.”

  The paper feels small in my hands, but the weight of it is something else entirely. It’s an invitation, but it feels like the first step into something bigger.

  I walk over to where Mams and Pops are waiting. We take a picture together, the three of us standing close. I tell them about the guys I just met.

  “I didn’t make any friends when I was inducted,” Pops grumbles. “Didn’t need any. I already had enough!”

  Mams laughs, nudging him playfully. “Oh, let the boy make friends. It sure won’t hurt him.”

  I glance at the paper again. “Mams, Pops, I got invited to a celebration for the new recruits here in the Center. I’ll probably stay for most of it. You two should head back to the colony before the Aquarails shut down for the night. I’ll grab a hotel and be back by morning to pack up.”

  Pops scowls. He hates parties. Mams tries to soothe him before he can argue, and after a moment, he just grunts and waves a hand. “Fine. But don’t do anything stupid.”

  I grin. “Never.”

  As I wave them off, a familiar voice calls out. “Dakota! Hey! We’re taking a bus to the party if you wanna come!”

  I turn to see Ego waving me over, grinning. I exhale and jog toward him. I just got inducted, and I’ve already made a few friends. Making these friends and building a team the first real step toward figuring out what happened to my dad.